


tea at midnight

by dirgewithoutmusic



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8680303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirgewithoutmusic/pseuds/dirgewithoutmusic
Summary: Tris shook the hand she was still holding out to him. Little Bear, obediently off the bed, whined a little. “Up.”
Briar squinted up at her. “It’s cold out there.”
“It’s damp in there. You’d think you’d run up a mountain, not had a nightmare.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: http://ink-splotch.tumblr.com/post/153360118464/if-youre-still-accepting-prompts-i-have-been

“Up,” Tris decided. She held out a hand, her grey sleep shirt bunching around her wrist. Little Bear was more direct– he whisked past Tris’s knees, put his paws up on the edge of Briar’s bed, and started determinedly cleaning his face.

Briar twisted in his mussed tangle of sweat-soaked blankets as he shoved Little Bear off. “I’m fine, Coppercurls. Don’t you fuss. Bear, off, I mean it.” He scrubbed a hand through his shorn hair. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You are never sorry,” Tris said. “And I was awake anyway–Niko and I have been working on a astronomy thing, and I was up on the roof.” She shook the hand she was still holding out to him. Little Bear, obediently off the bed, whined a little. “Up.”

Briar squinted up at her. “It’s cold out there.”

“It’s damp in there. You’d think you’d run up a mountain, not had a nightmare.”

Briar’s gaze shuttered briefly and Tris wondered what in his dream he’d been running from– or after. “Up,” she said.

“Bully,” said Briar, and let her haul him to his feet. Little Bear followed them, big paws padding on the floor.

The house on Cheeseman Street was dark and quiet, this late into the night. Tris dragged Briar down to a small common room couch, tossed a dry nightshirt at his head, and went to put a kettle on the stove. The herbs in the kitchen windowbox rustled in non-existent wind and Tris leaned heavily on the counter, her palms pressing into cool tile.

“That’s my sleepy tea,” said Briar, when she came out with two mugs. His bare feet had vanished under the bulky fluff of the curled-up Little Bear.

“If I brought you any other kind, you’d keep yourself up complaining about the inferiority of their blend.”

“Not if it was Rosethorn’s.”

“Drink.” Tris settled herself busily on the cushions, pulling a blanket close. Little Bear whuffled, tail wagging lazily below them.

“It’s too hot.”

“And to think people say you’re tough, Briar Moss.”

Briar blew lightly on the steaming surface. “And to think people say you’re not the nicest of us.”

Tris blushed fiercely. “Don’t talk nonsense.” She took a sip and winced over her scalded tongue. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Alright. Drink your tea.”

When Daja got up in the pale light of the morning, she found them there in a huddle of blankets, Little Bear snoring at their feet. Tris’s curly head was on Briar’s bony shoulder, and both of them were breathing easy.


End file.
